


Feelin' That Rush

by yehwellwhatever



Category: American Idol RPF, David Cook (Musician), The Anthemic
Genre: Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehwellwhatever/pseuds/yehwellwhatever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal and jealousy is not a good combination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feelin' That Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to mmmfelicious for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Title from Still Comin' Down by Christian Kane.

“…then her girlfriend came over and I figured out that she wasn’t only a girl _friend_ but a _girlfriend_.” The guy laughs, his hand resting on Andy’s thigh.

Andy startles as Neal puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Andy, can I talk to you?”

Both the guy and Andy look at him, their expressions nearly identical with their arched eyebrows and amused smiles. “I’m kind of busy here, can it wait?” Andy asks.

Neal squeezes Andy’s shoulder. “I _really_ need to talk to you about something.”

“He said he was busy,” the guy speaks up, his voice harsh. “So why don’t you back the fuck off and let him be?”

“You are not involved in this conversation,” Neal says, his voice matching the nameless guy. “So why don’t _you_ let me speak to Andy and maybe he will come find you when we’re done?”

Andy looks up at him, his eyes unreadable in the darkness of the club. “This better be important, Tiemann.” Andy gets off the stool and Neal shifts his hand to Andy’s lower back, just above the waistband of his sinfully tight jeans.

They walk side by side through the throng of people, Neal’s hand never breaking contact with some part of Andy.

“Where are we going?” Andy asks, clearly not happy with the fact that Neal interrupted his conversation.

“Just follow my lead,” is all Neal offers.

They make their way through the club in silence; there’s not much else they can do with the way the music gets louder for every step they take closer to their intended destination.

Reaching the hallway leading to the bathrooms, Neal presses Andy up against the wall, his hands roaming Andy’s chest as he presses a closed-mouth kiss to Andy’s lips. He trails kisses down Andy’s jaw and throat, surprised at the way Andy tilts his head up, giving him easy access.

“Neal,” Andy gets out around a moan. “What… why are you…?”

Neal pulls back, looking Andy in the eye as he speaks. “That guy was hitting on you. You’re mine, Skib, he can’t have you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Neal,” Andy says with a chuckle. “He wasn’t hitting on me. Are you drunk?”

“His hands were all over you,” Neal says, letting his hands roam around Andy’s upper body again, one hand taking a detour down to Andy’s midsection. “You’re mine, Skib, only mine.”

He unbuckles Andy’s belt, feeling him more than hearing him gasp in surprise. “What are you doing?” Andy says, a little breathless. He doesn’t do anything to stop Neal though.

Neal leans back in and kisses Andy again, a little more demanding this time. Andy doesn’t respond at first, but he doesn’t pull away either so Neal takes that as a good sign. He gasps into Neal’s mouth, responding for a few seconds before hands are pushing on Neal’s hips.

“We’re in public, Neal,” Andy says, his eyes wide, with lust or nervousness Neal can’t tell. “Someone might see us.”

Neal smirks, Andy’s definitely nervous. “I know.” He bends in, whispering in Andy’s ear, “That’s kind of the point.”

Andy shudders against him. “Why would you…? Cook will… We can’t… Neal, please…” Andy can’t finish a single thought, and Neal can feel him almost vibrating under his hands.

“Please what?” Neal asks, trailing a hand along the edge of Andy’s jeans and then up over his abs. “Please make you come? Want me to make you come? Make you scream for me?”

Andy rests his head against Neal’s shoulder. “Fuck… we… please!” he says around a moan.

Neal holds Andy’s hips against the wall with one hand, letting the other drift down into Andy’s jeans. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

At the first touch of Neal’s hand on Andy’s erection, Andy’s hips jerk forward. “If someone… Cook will kill us.”

“You know, you think about Cook way too much,” Neal says, voice low in Andy’s ear. “Should I feel threatened?”

Andy shakes his head, trying to clear it, but all that comes out when he tries to speak is a groan. Neal falls to his knees on the dirty floor, not wasting a moment as he unbuttons Andy’s jeans.

Neal looks up at him, eyes hooded. Making a hushing sound, he says, voice low, “Better keep quiet if you don’t want anyone to hear us. The risk of getting caught is in the thrill of it all, isn’t it?”

Andy’s hands try to find something to hold onto, eventually settling in Neal’s hair. He tilts Neal’s head upwards, and the look in his eyes tells Neal that he should get on with it already.

Neal chuckles. “Impatient, Skib?” He pulls Andy’s jeans and underwear down slightly, just enough for his cock to spring free. Then he stops to just look at Andy, eyes roaming all over his body. He waits - waits for the sign that tells him Andy is just about to fall apart.

When Andy’s fingers tighten in his hair and pull him closer, Neal smiles and gives in. Once Neal’s mouth is on him, Andy relaxes his hands a little, one leaving his hair completely to form a fist in Andy’s mouth to quell the noises.

They don’t have a lot of time, Neal knows this; they’re lucky that no one has walked in on them already. Still, he can’t help but tease Andy just a little. Pulling back, he breathes hotly on Andy’s cock, watching his entire body shiver.

He doesn’t give Andy time to get his bearings before his mouth is around Andy again, tongue teasing the underside of the head.

It doesn’t take long until the grip Andy still has on Neal’s hair tightens and Andy’s coming. Once he’s spent, his body goes limp, and if it weren’t for Neal’s hand on his hips, he would have been on the floor by now.

“That was…” Andy starts, words coming out between fits of laughter. “Fuck, Neal. I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Hot, wasn’t it?” Neal smirks.

“That’s beside the point,” Andy says, tucking himself in and buttoning up his jeans again. “Cook is going to _kill you_ if he finds out.” He holds out a hand, helping Neal up off the floor before kissing him, tasting himself on Neal’s tongue.

His hand finds its way down to Neal’s fly, but freezes when the door down the hall opens.

“There you are,” Cook’s voice rings out, sounding relieved. Turning around, Neal watches Cook’s face fall. “What have you been up to? Will people be able to read about this on TMZ tomorrow?”

Neal can feel Andy’s cheeks heat up in a blush as he buries his face in the crook of Neal’s neck. “I don’t think so?” Neal says, smirking as he pets Andy’s head soothingly.

Cook huffs, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You are impossible, Doc. Your jealousy issues really are getting out of control.”

“Jealousy?” Andy looks up at Neal, head tilted in question. “What would you have to be jealous about?”

“That guy who spent the better part of half an hour hitting on you,” Cook says, sounding smug.

Andy looks over at Cook, confused. “What guy? Jared? We were just talking; his girlfriend was out dancing.”

“The guy had his hands all over you,” Neal says. “If he wasn’t hitting on you, I’m the new member of the Backstreet Boys.”

Andy smirks, looking over at Cook. “Does that make me the new lead guitarist?”

Cook snorts, cocking an eyebrow. “Maybe if the guy hadn’t actually been hitting on you. Right now you’re out of luck.” Andy’s face falls as Cook continues. “Boy, you really are clueless when you’ve been drinking. How much have you had?”

“Not sure the drinking has anything to do with it,” Neal says under his breath, making Andy blush again.

Cook crosses his arms over his chest, and it’s obvious he’s trying to be serious. “I really should be glad that I didn’t walk in two minutes earlier, shouldn’t I?”

Neal smiles, feeling smug. “Yes, that’s probably for the best.” He feels Andy’s hand trail up under his shirt, teasing his still sensitive skin at the bottom of the new tattoo. “I think… maybe we should get out of here.” He nods, mostly to himself. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea right about now.”

Removing Andy’s hand from underneath his shirt, he all but drags Andy out the back door, flipping Cook off as he laughs at them.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lire_casander @ LJ, the prompt was _Neal marking his territory_.


End file.
